“Yes, thank you. Some tea would be very good. In my bag, in my dressing room. I have tisane della salute for when I travel and do not feel well.”

  Laz quickly went to the door where the guard stood, frowning deeply, concern written all over his face. “Mrs. Vicente isn’t feeling well. She needs her tea. Can you bring it? It’s in her bag in her dressing room.”

  The guard shook his head. “I have instructions not to leave this post.” He motioned toward the tiny counter housing a sink, fancy coffee machine, and electric kettle. “There was a box of mint tea.”

  Elena fumed and stomped her foot. “No! I need my tea. You expect me to drink some rancid leaf water from who knows where? My tea comes from one of the greatest tea makers in Europe, not from some swamp in Jersey!”

  Oh, dear God. Laz had no idea a human’s voice could go that high in pitch.

  “The pineapple,” Elena shrieked.

  “We need that tea,” Laz said. “Either you go, or I go, but if I go and someone’s waiting for me in Elena’s dressing room, the Kings are going to be pissed.” He hated using the Kings as a scare tactic, but he’d known them long enough now to know the kind of sway they had, and as a member of a private security firm, this guy wasn’t about to piss off a King, especially the King.

  “Okay, just stay in the room, close the door, and don’t let anyone in. I’ll be right back,” he said gruffly before taking off toward Elena’s dressing room. Laz did as instructed and turned back to Elena.

  “Don’t worry, he’ll be back any minute now,” Laz assured her, walking over to her.

  “Thank you,” she said, her voice hoarse as she fanned herself with what looked like a folded-up piece of pattern paper. “You are a good boy. Forgive me. I am very particular about what I ingest.”

  “I understand. Is there anything else I can do to help in the meantime?” He probably should have asked her what she meant by pineapple. He had a feeling that was probably what was holding up the guard. For all he knew she had a hollowed-out pineapple for a purse or something. Glancing over at the kitchen sink, he had a feeling tap water for her tea wasn’t going to cut it, and he’d rather prevent another meltdown. “I should grab someone and ask them to bring you some bottled water to make your tea.”

  “Such a good boy.” She pushed away from the table and turned to him with a smile. “It’s a shame you must die now.”

  Laz dropped his gaze to the huge pair of scissors in her hand. His head shot up, and her smile faded, the look in her eyes turning his blood to ice. She’d taken the large scissors apart. After tossing one half onto the table behind her, she brandished the other half like a knife.

  “Elena? What—” The truth slammed into him like a bullet train. “Oh my God, it was you. This whole time… it was you.” It all made sense. Who else would have had access to Paolo’s accounts, his email, his every move. “You’ve known about the affair, the photos, everything this whole time, haven’t you?”

  “You should have died on the beach, Lazarus, but it is not as if I have hired a killer before. It is not something you simply look up on the internet,” she said, blinking innocently like she was discussing how hard it was to find a decent parking spot at the beach or something. “He was the brother of an associate of a friend of a friend.” She shrugged. “Anyway, what is done is done. I should have known better than to trust a man. Lying, cheating, womanizing, bastardos, all of you!”

  “Paolo didn’t send anyone here to kill me. You did, didn’t you?” Laz asked backing up slowly toward the door. Somehow Paolo must have found out, but how?

  The quiet rage radiating off her had Laz’s heart pounding in his ears. He wanted to know why the hell she was doing this, but he wasn’t about to stand around waiting to get impaled by half a pair of scissors so he could hear her villainous monologue.

  “I, um, I think I’m going to skip the whole dying thing today. Thanks.” He shoved the mannequin with the rain dress at her, and as he suspected, she was nutty enough to try and catch it before it hit the floor, giving him just enough time to haul ass out of the room and into the backstage area, which was predictably in a frenzy now that the fashion show portion of the evening had ended. Behind him, he could hear Elena calling his name in a singsong voice, and it was creepy as hell. Holy shit, the woman was off her rocker. He needed to find Red.

  Out in the main area, the crowd was huge as guests headed for the after-party. From the segments of conversation Laz managed to overhear, guests were told Elena would make her appearance and speech at the after-party since she didn’t appear after the show. Laz moved through the masses of people as quickly as he could, occasionally glancing over his shoulder in the hopes he’d lost her. Part of him felt like an idiot for missing what was right in front of his face, but never once would he have believed Elena Vicente capable of doing what she’d done. The woman was eccentric, yes, but murderous? His phone rang, and he pulled it out, relieved to see it was Red. He didn’t stop weaving through the crowds when he answered.

  “Laz, where the hell are you? Where’s Elena? Joker got to the dressing room, and you were both gone.”

  “She’s trying to impale me with a huge-ass scissor!”

  “What?”

  “I lost her in the crowd, though. I don’t see her. Red, she’s the one behind everything.”

  “We know. Paolo’s lawyer called us and told us everything. She’s known about the photos from the beginning. I’ll explain later. We apprehended the shooter, and he’s in police custody, on the way to the station. Head for the garden. I’m on my way.”

  “Okay.” He hung up, and tried to move as fast as he could, but there were so many people, and the closer they got to the doors, the tighter everyone packed together.

  “Lazarus, darling!”

  Oh shit. He could hear security radios going off around him, but if he shouted out to them, he’d give away his location, and if he could hear her, she was close by. He felt like one of those unsuspecting swimmers at the beach, naive to the fact that violins meant the killer shark was swiftly approaching, and oh my God, he was losing his damn mind. How did he get himself into these situations? At what point in his life had he taken such a wrong turn that he found himself fleeing a fashion designer on a murderous rampage? Okay maybe not rampage, but she was definitely not going to tailor him a new suit.

  Finally he reached the doors to the garden, and he took off when he saw a blur of color whiz toward him. Someone screamed, and he skidded in the grass, turning direction just as she came barreling toward him, scissor raised high. With a yelp, he rounded a palm tree and headed for one of the many tables. Grabbing the centerpiece, he spun and gasped as her scissor plunged into the pineapple in his hands. He was never going to eat pineapple ever again. Ever. In fact he didn’t want to see a damn pineapple for a good long while. She let out a shriek, jerking at the scissor, but he wasn’t about to give her a second shot at him, so he tackled her to the ground, the garden erupting into gasps and shouts. Not that any of the guests came to his aid. Knowing Elena, they probably thought it was one of her screwy side shows.

  “Laz!” Red called out from somewhere behind him, but Laz wasn’t about to take his eyes off Elena. She fought fiercely, her nails scraping against his skin as he tried to restrain her, and then she kneed him in the balls. Fuck! He should have seen that coming. Stars filled his vision, and he fell onto his side with a groan as he cupped his boys.

  “Holy shit,” he wheezed.

  “You’re going to pay for this!” She lunged for the scissor, but Laz managed to snatch up the pineapple and swing it with all his strength like a baseball bat, smacking her on the side of the head, and sending her rolling on the grass. The moment she stopped, Ace was all over her.

  Laz sat on the grass, trying to catch his breath when Red dropped to his knees in front of him. He pulled Laz into a tight embrace, and Laz wrapped his arms around Red, his eyes closed as relief washed over him. He soaked up Red’s warmth, gave himself over to Red’s strength, his face buried in Red’s broad chest as the man he loved murmured sweet, comforting words at him and stroked his hair.

  “Are you okay?” Red pulled away enough to look into Laz’s eyes. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, sweetheart.”

  The guilt in Red’s beautiful hazel-green eyes had Laz on full alert, and he narrowed his gaze at Red. “No. You are not going to feel guilty about this, understand? None of us had any idea Elena was behind this, that she’d hired a killer and intended to frame her husband.”

  Red nodded and helped Laz to his feet, keeping him close as the media had a field day. Luckily for them, the cameras were all pointing at Elena, who was being taken away in handcuffs. Red ushered Laz to the end of the garden and a quiet spot away from the three-ring circus. Kings were coordinating with the event manager and security company to take care of the guests while additional police arrived on the scene.

  “You were fierce out there,” Red said, holding Laz close, and brushing his lips over Laz’s. “I’m so proud of you.”

  “I think I kind of reached my limit of being pushed around. Also, I wasn’t going to be killed by a woman who dressed like a pineapple.”

  Red chuckled and cupped his face, his smile fading as he stroked his thumb over Laz’s cheek. “When Paolo’s lawyer told us Elena knew about the photos all along, we realized she’d been behind everything, and all I could think about was how you were alone with her.”

  “How did he find out?”

  “His lawyer did some digging around and discovered she’d hired a private investigator nearly a year ago. She knew about all of his affairs, and had been spying on him, listening to his conversations, which is how she found out about the photos. King thinks she was trying to save herself from a scandal by getting rid of all the guilty parties in some way or another and framing her husband for it, and it was working.”

  “I’m just glad it’s over,” Laz muttered, leaning into Red.

  “Ready to go home?”

  Laz worried his bottom lip, then let out a disappointed sigh. “I guess now that it’s all over, we’ll be going back to our own places, huh?” The way Red’s smile lit up told Laz he’d made the right decision.

  “Or, you know, I have this big condo apartment on the beach. There’s an office I never use. You could make that room your office, studio, whatever. But you know, you’d have to come live with me.”

  Laz pretended to think about it. “Hm, live in a huge condo on the beach with a gorgeous man, waking up every morning in his arms and the sound of the ocean. I don’t know.”

  “Maybe I can sweeten the deal a little bit.” Red brushed his fingers down Laz’s jaw, and smiled down at him. “How about if I throw in an ‘I love you?’”

  Laz’s smile couldn’t get any wider, and his heart felt like it might explode out of his chest. “I will accept your ‘I love you’ and counter offer an ‘I love you’ in return. I love you, Red.”

  “I love you too, Laz.” Red brought Laz hard against him and kissed him within an inch of his life. Laz all but melted into a puddle of goo at his feet. Oh yeah, he was definitely moving in, and he couldn’t wait to start his new life with the amazing man in his arms. Finally the nightmare was over, and his dreams could begin. Pineapples and all.

  Epilogue

  “You guys are freaking hilarious.”

  Red hid his laugh behind the menu so his boyfriend wouldn’t lump him in with the rest of the troublemakers, but Laz’s arched eyebrow aimed his way said he wasn’t getting away with it.

  It had been months since Elena Vicente was found guilty of attempted murder. Apparently, she’d had enough of her husband’s cheating ways, especially since rumors had begun to circulate about his many lovers, all of whom he loved to wine and dine on Elena’s hard-earned dime. Discovering there were photos of him and Bryan in bed together had been the final straw, and she’d decided to get her revenge, planning to use Laz’s murder to frame her husband while simultaneously destroying Bryan’s career. There was speculation that Bryan getting food poisoning the night of the fashion show might have saved his life, considering the shooter and a murderous Elena were both in attendance.

  The media coverage had been brutal, with the press looking into all parties involved. Bryan was splashed all over the media, and not in a flattering light. His nasty treatment of others came back to bite him in the rear, and the more people who were interviewed spoke of his backstabbing ways, the worse it got for Bryan. Last they’d heard, he was lying low in the hopes of salvaging what was left of his career.

  The coverage for Laz had been mostly positive, and although some of it was no doubt due to the Kings and their reputation—seeing as how Laz was dating a member of the Kings—Red was certain it had more to do with the fact Laz was an honest, kind, and all-around wonderful man. It had been hard for Laz to see himself plastered all over the news, but more so to see coverage of Gio, who Laz was missing a great deal due to his return home being postponed for another six months. But Gio spoke to Laz every week and hoped to be back in the country soon. Red and Laz had gotten through everything together, and now Laz was busier than ever, each day getting closer to his dream job.

  Any niggling concerns they might have had regarding how quickly their relationship was moving was obliterated for Laz the first morning he woke to the sound of the ocean, and for Red, at the sight of Laz in his bed. Red loved to tease that Laz only loved him for his condo, but it quickly became clear how much living near the ocean suited Laz. Whenever their schedules allowed it, they’d wake up, dress, and go for a run on the beach before getting ready for their day.

  Laz was flourishing, not just in his career, but personally. He was more confident, bolder, and definitely sassier. With every passing day, Red lost more and more of his heart to Laz. He was beautiful, kind, and accepted Red as he was, broken pieces and all. Every month Laz joined him for joint therapy sessions, and Red suspected a good deal of Laz’s newfound confidence stemmed from the help they were getting.

  “So whose bright idea was it this time?” Laz asked, picking a chunk of pineapple out of his favorite Mahi fish taco and lobbing it at Ace.

  “What? Why are you attacking me with your fruit?”

  “Because I know it was you, smart guy.”

  Sunday brunch at Bibi’s was quickly becoming a new tradition. Two large tables were pushed together, and this week it was the Kings, Colton, and Laz. Red’s heart swelled as he took in the scene before him. He loved the sound of his brothers-in-arms’ boisterous laughter as they teased each other, loved the way they’d embraced Laz as one of their own, as they’d done with Colton, to the point they’d taken to tormenting poor Laz with pineapples at every opportunity.

  Lucky was in tears from laughing so hard. It was pretty obvious who the culprit was this time.

  Laz gasped. “It was you! Damn it, Lucky!”

  “You should have seen your face. It never stops being funny.” Lucky let out a very indelicate snort when Laz chucked a piece of pineapple at him. It bounced off Lucky’s shoulder, and landed in front of Ace. He picked up the pineapple chunk and showed it to Colton, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Uh-oh. Here we go.

  “Baby, if you were fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.”

  “Oh dear God, no.” Colton shook his head, his eyes going slightly wide when Ace’s grin turned wicked. He was just getting started.

  “Olive you so much, Colt. You’re one in a melon.”

  Colton let out a bark of laughter. “No. no, no, no. You’re such a dork. Stop it.”

  “I think we make a great pear.”

  “No, really.” Colton’s expression turned deadpan. “I love you, but you need to stop. Like, right now.”

  Ace took that as a personal challenge to up his game. He turned his attention to King. “Hey, King.”

  King lifted his gaze from his plate, his mouth full of Bibi’s famous BLT. He shook his head, and Ace turned his megawatt smile on Red.

  “Hey, Big Red, what kind of dog doesn’t bark?”

  “Why me?” Red groaned. “I don’t know.”

  “A hush puppy.”

  “Oh my God, that was so bad,” Laz said with a snort.

  Never one to give up, Ace turned back to King. “Hey, King. What do you call a fake noodle?”

  Colton put his hands together and pleaded with King. “Don’t kill him. We’re flying to Hawaii next weekend, and I need him to make sure I don’t pass out on the plane ride over. I don’t fly well.”

  King grunted. “Fine.”

  Everyone laughed when Ace’s eyes lit up and he did a butt wiggle in his chair before punching the air. “Yes! Okay, so, King, what do you call a fake noodle?”

  With a heavy sigh, King sat back in his chair and crossed his beefy arms over his chest. “I don’t know, Ace. What do you call a fake noodle. You’re lucky I hold your boyfriend in such high regard.”

  “Wait for it.” Ace paused for dramatic effect, then waggled his eyebrows. “An impasta!”

  Everyone groaned and threw fries at Ace, which he attempted to catch with his mouth. He laughed with a mouthful of fries, and Colton glanced over at King, who shook his head.

  “Nope. He’s yours now. No take-backs.”

  The table erupted in laughter, and Red put his arm around the back of Laz’s chair, sitting back to admire his little family. He was blessed, no doubt about it. Not only did he have brothers who he would give his life for, and who would give their life for him, but he had the most beautiful, amazing man at his side who he loved more and more each day.

  “Hey,” Laz said softly, getting Red’s attention.

  The love in those brilliant blue eyes stole Red’s breath away every time. He leaned in and placed a kiss to Laz’s temple, replying softly. “Hey.”

  Laz hummed and turned his face, brushing his lips over Red’s, murmuring quietly so only Red could hear. “I love you. Thank you for letting me be a part of this.”

  “I love you too, sweetheart. Welcome to the family.” Red brought their lips together for a sweet kiss, both of them laughing at the collective “Aww.”